After Moulin Rouge
by Dani6
Summary: His guilt, the Duke, and a complete stranger. Will Christian be able to stop fate before it stops him?


After Moulin Rougebrbr

Setting: Takes place in Christian's apartment after Satine's death.

Disclaimer: All characters and places belong to the director, writer, and the motion picture company that produced it. It is purely for enjoyment to entertain those who are fans and those who aren't yet fans. It is not for profit.

Feedback: Please!!! I'd really like to hear your comments. 

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The room was dark and Christian sat at his typewriter, drunk and in tears. He was wearing slacks and a dirty white undershirt. His eyes were bloodshot from lack of sleep and his face, unshaven. Papers lined the walls and an empty liquor bottle lay next to him. Memories raced through his mind: 

"I can't love anymore," Satine had said. But she could… and she did. She had loved Christian, and had suffered because of it. 

"Stay away from the Moulin Rouge!" his father had warned. Christian slowly moved to the window to look down at the ruined Moulin Rouge, the red windmill. 

"Come what may," he quietly sang. "I will love her… 'til my… dying… day."

"It is better to have loved and lost than to have never loved at all," said a voice. Christian turned around to see a figure in the doorway. His heart skipped a beat and his eyes lit up, hoping it was whom he wished it was. 

The figure slowly descended into the light and Christian sighed, a single tear fell down his cheek. 

"Nini." The moment he said her name, the tear seemed to freeze. A clock stopped forever. He turned again towards the window. He was disappointed, but knew in his heart it couldn't be the woman he had loved. That would have been impossible. 

 "What would you know about love?" he said bitterly. It was more of a statement than a question. 

"You loved her," Nini whispered. She moved closer to him. "I brought you some of her things, and money… for your troubles." 

"For my troubles," Christian mocked with a hint of cynicism 

"You've got a visitor," she said, ignoring his remark. Another figure entered the small, unkempt room. 

"Son," the figure said and, without turning around, Christian knew exactly who it was. 

"How did you find me?" Christian asked. 

"You were always good at the doing the opposite of what you were told," the figure said, taking off his top hat. Christian still faced the window, refusing to look at his father's face. "I hadn't heard from you in so long. I heard of a new voice for the Bohemian revolution. I knew at once who it was and it brought me here. With you and Satine, I mean." 

"Why are we here?" Christian asked. 

"To give you my condolences… for your loss," he replied. He looked at the floor; the hat in his hands was shaking. Christian could tell he was having difficulty find the words. 

"That's not why you're here," Christian said. He turned and stared hard into his father's eyes. "You're here to gloat… to gloat about how you were right and I was wrong and how I should have stayed home where it was safe and secure and never experience anything!" His last few words were loud and harsh, and his breathing was heavy. His father stood still, only looking up at his son, his only son, whom was in pain. He wanted to help him, to hold him, to tell him everything was going to be all right, but he only stood there feeling helpless. He knew nothing he said could take away his son's pain. What could he say? What could he do? Ha had never been the 'fatherly' type.

"It's true, isn't it?" Christian continued, more tears flowing down his cheeks. He took the empty liquor bottle and slammed it against the typewriter, breaking the bottle and leaving a dent in the machine. "_Isn't it?!"_ He paused and then, knowing that his father wouldn't answer him, sat on the chair and buried his head in his hands. Sobs were wracking his body. He hated crying in front of his father, but he couldn't control himself. The pain was just too unbearable. 

"Get out," Christian said, softer and calmer. "Please, just get out." 

"Fine," he said, "but know that I love you and you'll always have a home with me." 

"I'll never have a home with you," Christian retorted. "My home has always been and will always be with Satine, my sparkling diamond." His father still remained silent, making no effort to console his son, though he desperately wanted to do so. He was speechless. It felt like a dagger had been ripped though his heart. He watched Christian, wondering what his experience had been like, but he didn't dare ask him. He didn't speak at all. He didn't utter a single word. After all, he had never been good with words like his son. He put his hat back on, silently crying for his son and for himself. Then he simply turned and walked out the door. 

"Nice visitor," Christian scoffed. 

"I wasn't referring to your father," Nini said quietly, eyeing the small child in the corner. She still held Satine's things and a few francs. Noticing Christian had completely dismissed what she had said, she continued, "Satine's things…."

"Don't you even say he name," Christian said narrowing his eyes as he stood up. He looked at her accusingly. "It's all your fault." 

"I'm sorry," Nini said

"You would have done anything to ruin Satine's happiness," he said. "Don't deny it." 

"No - ," Nini began, but Christian knocked the things out of her hand.

"Your eyes burn green!" he yelled, angrily. "You hated what she had. You hated that she was star and not you. You hated seeing her happy

"I was not… was not…," Nini tried to say, but she didn't wan to say what she knew was the truth. 

 "I can see inside your heart," Christian continued. "It's black, like a raven's feather. You know what I'm talking about. Admit it. You were jea - ." 

"Alright!" Nini interrupted, yelling just as loud. The anger was beginning to consume her. "I was… I was…. She had everything: beauty, talent, and love. She had everybody kneeling at her feet, begging her to pay attention to them."

"Say it," Christian urged. 

"She was just as much of a whore as I was. So why did she get all the fame, the glory? I would have done anything just to get even a glimpse of what she had. She didn't deserve any of it, but she had it. And I should have had it too." 

"And what of love?" Christian asked in a softer tone. 

"If she was allowed to love, why wasn't I?" 

"You were always allowed, you just never opened your heart. You never gave yourself the chance." 

"Satine and I, we're creatures of the underworld. We can't afford to love," she said, her pulse rushing. 

"Can't afford to? Or just don't have the courage, the compassion, the hope?" he asked. 

"There is hope," she said, quietly, feeling defeated.

 "Yes, there is. You just have to believe." 

"She would have died anyway," Nini said, shifting her weight and looked down at the floor to avoid his gaze.

"Yes, but if you hadn't made it so difficult, we might have had more time…. Why don't you just go. Leave me alone." Nini nodded and sadly left. Christian stared at Satine's possessions, which were hastily spread across the floor. He made no attempts to pick them up. He walked over to the machine and typed, "The greatest thing you'll ever learn is just to love and be loved in return. The end." He took the paper out and scanned it over

"It's finished Satine," he whispered. "It will be published, and soon everyone will know the story of the young courtesan and the penniless writer; the story about us." He taped the paper on the wall next to all the other pages. As he turned around to grab his coat and leave, he noticed something shivering in the corner, half hidden by shadows. 

"Who are you?" he asked. The child moved into the light. She was wearing a tattered gray dress and her hair was tangled. Her eyes were huge, but lonely. The only thing that seemed to cling to her was isolation. 

"Annette," she said in a small voice. "They said you'd take care of me, that you were a friend of my mother."

"Who?" 

"Satine," the girl replied quietly. 

TO BE CONTINUED…..


End file.
